


Mile High Club

by LensMind



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AEROPLANE SEX, Alternate Universe - Pilots, Flight Attendant Marco, M/M, Mile High Club, Pilot Jean, pretty much pwp, that's the only bit i care about tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LensMind/pseuds/LensMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean had absolutely despised the idea of the ‘mile high club’ when he first started training as a pilot. Safe to say, Marco Bodt changed his opinion on it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mile High Club

**Author's Note:**

> Blame [this wonderful ask](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com/post/89857526307/pilot-flight-attendant-au-jean-is-a-sassy-pilot-who) from an anon... so yeah. Credit for the idea goes to them! I was sort of proud of this one, so that's why it's the only short form tumblr making it on here. ~~whether i should be proud or not is up to others to decide i suppose~~
> 
> But yes, you can find me [on tumblr here](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com/) if you wish. And I deeply apologise for all of this fic... ~~not~~

Jean wasn’t really paying attention to what his co-pilot Eren was saying – something about current altitude and shit? Nothing of major importance probably. Or at least, nothing that was more important than the sweet piece of ass that had just wandered into the cockpit to deliver the two pilots their inflight meals. 

Making a mental note to kiss whoever had assigned Marco Bodt to be attending on yet another one of his flights, Jean kept his eyes fixed on the flight attendant as he told Eren what he’d brought him for dinner. Marco was hardly unaware of the attention he was getting, seeing as he kept meeting Jean’s gaze every now and then – and Jean swore that Marco’s smile widened whenever he looked over. It was like a chemical reaction; the moment their eyes met, a shiver of excitement ran through them, turning their gazes more and more heated with every second that passed. 

“Thank god,” Eren’s shitty-ass voice said loudly, rudely interrupting the brief eye-fucking session that Jean and Marco had been in the middle of. “I missed lunch, so I’m fucking starving!”

Marco’s smile was positively angelic when he turned back to Eren – not a single hint that he’d just been giving Jean a beautiful dirty look. “Well I’m glad you’re hungry. Less waste that way,” He wandered across to stand behind Jean’s side and held out a covered tray, a glimmer of that previous emotion reappearing in his eyes. “I hope you’re hungry too, sir?”

_Ah, the formal talk…_

“So-so,” Jean shrugged, leaning back in his seat and taking the tray. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked back up at Marco. “To be honest, I’m more _thirsty_.”

He chose to ignore the groan coming from Eren’s side of the cockpit in favour of drinking up the way Marco’s eyes lit up and his tongue ran across his lip.

“Well… I better take care of that,” Marco smiled, nodding a goodbye to Eren (who now had his head in his hands) and left the cockpit with one last pointed look in Jean’s direction. 

Jean fidgeted impatiently for about a minute; the tray remaining unopened on his lap and Eren noisily demolishing his own meal. He couldn’t move too soon – that would be too suspicious. It wasn’t like Eren hadn’t been working with Jean long enough to know exactly what happened every time Marco was on the same flight, but Jean still couldn’t be too obvious. 

It didn’t take long before he couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m just going to nip to the bathroom,” he announced, scrambling out of his seat before Eren could say anything – tray held awkwardly in his hands. Jean paused at the cockpit door only long enough to ask “You ok to watch everything?”

“Ask me that _before_ you get up,” Eren grumbled, waving Jean away. The flight was in auto-pilot anyway. It wasn’t like either of them needed to do anything until landing came about or something went wrong. 

Jean slipped out the cockpit and into the flight attendant station. The head of cabin crew, Mikasa, was standing refilling the tea and coffee pots for passengers. She didn’t even bother looking up when Jean stepped out, simply held her hand out, already expecting him to hand her his uneaten dinner. 

“Is… er… anyone in the bathroom?” Jean asked. There was something very unsettling about Mikasa’s aura – like… she already knew what he was about to say before he said it. 

“If I said ‘no’, I would both be lying and giving you the answer you don’t want to hear, correct?” she asked blankly. 

Though he did open his mouth to reply, Jean just sighed and gave up in the end – heading for the business class toilet that the pilots had to use. Thankfully, it was behind a curtain, so none of the passengers could see Jean knocks softly against the closed door, his body already beginning to burn in anticipation. There was a quiet click, and Jean could push the door open easily. 

“Still thirsty, sir?”

Jean couldn’t push his way into the cramped toilet fast enough. 

He barely remembered to lock the door in his hurry to crush his lips against Marco’s; it was only when the flight attendant’s arms snaked past him to turn the lock that Jean recalled something about them not wanting to be caught. Not that he really cared as long as his hands were gripping Marco’s sides like they were. 

It had become something of a routine; Marco popped by to deliver Jean and the other pilot their meals, or even just a snack, and shortly after they would meet in the toilet for… well… _this_. Jean had absolutely despised the idea of the ‘mile high club’ when he first started training as a pilot. Safe to say, Marco Bodt changed his opinion on it, and now he was a regular member whenever the freckled attendant was around. 

The toilet was cramped, but that somehow managed to make it all the hotter. The less space, the less choice they had in having their bodies pressed right up against one another, fighting each other for the more comfortable space or position in that small little room. When they first started this, they got themselves into all sorts of awkward places – Jean’s foot had been in the toilet itself more than once, and Marco had even ended up with a concussion because of the sink. Now, they were experts. 

Jean’s hands were already fumbling at Marco’s tie – he never was good with those blasted things, so it took some fiddling in the midst of his attack on Marco’s lips in order to remove it completely (whilst Marco was able to get Jean’s tie off in one swift action, as always). The waistcoat was next – and as much as Jean felt the thing made Marco’s torso look _amazing_ , he much preferred it to, you know, not be there. Though, Marco reminded him in breathy whispers between kisses that Jean could only unbutton the waistcoat and shirt – they didn’t want to clutter the toilet up with their clothes when they had to be in and out as fast as possible (pun not intended). 

They broke the kiss to give Jean a chance to undo Marco pants and start sliding them down his thighs. Marco was panting, stroking his hand through Jean’s hair as he let the pilot hoist him up onto the edge of the sink.

“How long before you’re flying back again?” Marco asked – trying not to squirm as Jean took his hardening dick in his hands and started to rub it slowly. 

Jean used his free hand to pull one of Marco’s legs up higher, hooking his elbow under his knee so give him better access to Marco’s lower regions. “I’m flying back tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s barely enough time to–” Marco’s words caught as Jean’s pressed a thumb into his tip – the pilot smirked at the reaction and leant back in to catch the attendant’s lips greedily, swiping a tongue along Marco’s lower lip and drinking up his gasps. 

“To sleep, I know,” Jean muttered. He removed his hand from Marco and reached down to find Marco’s trouser pocket (which was a bit hard, seeing as Marco’s pants were now around his ankle on the floor). Poking inside, he found a small bottle that Marco always made sure to bring to these little in-flight meetings. 

Holding the bottle in his hand, Jean turned his attention to Marco’s neck – biting and sucking at the skin and leaving marks everywhere that would be hidden. “Maybe you should stay with me, seeing as I won’t have enough time to sleep anyway.”

Marco chuckled, hands pushing between their bodies to search for Jean’s trousers. “I couldn’t take away your resting time when you have a flight the next day, _sir_.”

“You think I don’t rest when I’m with you?”

“Well _I_ certainly don’t get any rest.”

Jean couldn’t have been more relieved when Marco finally got his pants undone. Whilst Marco tugged him closer to latch onto his neck, Jean opened the small bottle and squeezed some lube out onto his fingers, immediately reaching down to start working Marco open. The attendant’s teeth sunk into Jean’s skin when he pushed the first finger in, but judging from the way Marco was rocking down onto his hand, he wasn’t in pain by any means. 

“Well, maybe when we’re both back on home ground,” Jean murmured. “I could take you out properly for once?”

Marco pulled back from Jean’s neck, leaning back against the mirror and raising an eyebrow. “Oh? You mean take me on an actual date? And not just sneak away for quickies in aeroplane bathrooms?”

“Hey now!” Jean grinned, pushing more fingers inside Marco. “Don’t act like this is all you get! I’ve sneaked you away for quickies in hotels too.”

“My bad…” Marco gasped – not at all focused on the conversation anymore. “You’re a true romantic.”

Jean replied by pulling his fingers out of Marco and pulling his leg even higher. Their eyes locked, and Marco nodded expectantly, craning his neck back and arching up, like he was trying to expose every last bit of himself to Jean. The pilot didn’t need any other permission, and gave his own cock a few short strokes to get some extra lubrication on it, before pushing slowly in. 

Biting his lip to keep the sounds in, Marco reached out to grab at Jean’s jacket, pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around Jean’s neck. The pilot didn’t fight against it, leaning closer and brushing his lips against Marco’s tightly sealed mouth as he pushed himself in to the hilt. 

“Hurry…” Marco whined, trying to move his hips but discovering that Jean’s hold on his leg was making that rather difficult. “Or someone will come.”

“You’ll come in a minute,” Jean said, slowly and tortuously pulling back out slowly. “Give yourself a moment to get used to it.”

Marco’s arms tightened around Jean’s neck, his gaze felt like it could burn Jean it was that intense. “You’ve been screwing me in this toilet every time we’re on the same flight for the past three months. I _am_ used to it,” He pulled Jean closer, and kissed him eagerly. “Now get moving.”

“Now who’s the ‘sir’?” Jean smirked. 

Then he started moving. 

It was just like all the other times they were cramped up in here; fast and rough. They always wasted enough time in the preparation, and needed to leave enough time to get their clothes sorted afterwards, so the actual ‘fucking’ part never really lasted long enough for the two of them. They were always satisfied, sure, but it wasn’t hard to tell they craved the closeness that they could reach during a longer, less hurried meeting. 

They crammed as much as they could in what little time they had: kissing, scratching, tugging, sucking – their skin would be red and raw by the end, but neither cared so long as they got a chance to touch the other as much as possible. Jean kept his eyes open, savouring the silent, open-mouthed cries Marco let out with every deep thrust; imaging what perfect sounds he would make if they could be as loud as they wanted. The look of Marco pressing his head back against the mirror as he neared breaking point was enough to send Jean over the edge by itself – knowing that it was _him_ who was bringing about such an expression on drove him further and faster. 

As the first audible moans started leaking from Marco’s mouth, Jean made sure to stop them by clamping their lips together again. Their heavy breathing fell in time, and as Marco’s hands knotted in Jean’s hair, Jean found himself desperately trying to hurry and push them both over the edge. Every brush of Marco’s fingers against him was almost over-stimulating; Jean couldn’t handle both the feeling of being so deep inside Marco, and their skin sticking to each other. It was too much, way too much, and it was sending them both insane. 

Marco started tightening around Jean, which was more than enough of a sign that he was dangerously close. Jean quickly wrapped a hand around him – a regular action to prevent their clothes from getting dirty. The added stimulation left Marco moaning pitifully into the kiss, and the sounds sent shivers down Jean’s spine even though they were muffled. 

Marco came first; nails digging into Jean as his hips jerked upwards, spilling into Jean’s hand and whining helplessly. His limbs grew weak, leaving Jean to hold him up more securely. Jean continued to thrust, smiling softly at the sight of Marco’s wanton expression and the way his hips continued to twitch in pleasure even now. It was only moments before Jean felt the bundle of heat and desire knot and grow in his stomach, and then he was gasping out Marco’s name as he came. 

They clung to each other for a while longer, holding eye contact as they came back down from the high. Marco grinned, clearly reluctant as he pointed out they should probably start the clean up now. As Marco was re-tying Jean’s tie for him (they’d be in here way too long if Jean was left to do it himself), Jean spent the time standing and appreciating the man in front of him. 

“So, about that date back home?” he asked when Marco was done. 

“Huh?” The attendant blinked, confused for a moment before his eyes widened and a blush rose to his cheeks. “Y-you were serious?”

Jean frowned. “What made you think I wasn’t?”

“It’s just… I thought this was all just… having fun in the mile high club… or something.”

“What? Is that all you want it to be?”

“No!”

Breathing a sigh a relief, Jean smiled. He leant forward and left one last kiss on Marco’s cheek. “Good. Once we land, give me your number. How’s Italian?”

“It-Italian’s good.”

Jean clicked the lock open and shot one last smirk at Marco (who was blushing even more now). “Come on. If fucking you is this good in a cramped, stinking aeroplane toilet, can you imagine how good it’ll be in my own bed?”

Jean headed back through the flight attendant station, where an expressionless Mikasa didn’t say anything as he passed. She was on the radio to the third and final flight attendant, Armin, anyway, who was down at the other end of the plane. As he started to slip through the door back into the cockpit, Marco reappeared in the station and shot Jean one last smile. 

As he slipped back into his seat, Eren glanced his way. “Is your _thirst_ quenched?”

“Eyes on the sky, Jaeger.”

“Eyes off the attendants then, Kirschtein.”

“Hell no.”


End file.
